


The Smell of Blood

by InkFire_Scribe



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Minor Spoilers, NO DEATH, Post-Apocalypse, Sacrifice, Spoilers, ZR Season 1, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 23:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21005657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkFire_Scribe/pseuds/InkFire_Scribe
Summary: Runner Five won't lose any more friends. The lengths they'll go to in order to keep others safe might be enough to break poor Sam, though.





	1. Another One

**Author's Note:**

> Copied over from my Tumblr account, where it was getting too long to keep reblogging to add more.

Jody’s breath was harsh in the mic, to the point where Sam needed to pull his headphones away from his ears. 

“Runner 4? Jody! My cameras are down, tell me what’s going on!” Even as he said it, his eyes were on the scanner. He didn’t like what he was seeing. 

“We’re surrounded, Sam.” The runner’s voice broke, her ragged breathing interrupting in uneven rasps. “Runner Five got them to back off a bit when they led the horde off, but now there are even more, and you remember how they attract more?” She trailed off on a moan. It was obvious to him that she was spent, and he was about to lose two good runners. 

“Don’t give up, Jody. I’ve got Runners 3 and 7 heading your way with noisemakers - just keep moving.” There they were. All runners carried ID transmitters, and the scanner showed them up red instead of green. They blipped away from Abel at a good clip, but he didn’t think it was fast enough. Damnit. If only the storm hadn’t wrecked his cameras. 

“Janine, I need those cameras _now!_” He threw the words over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and heard a snarled reply from somewhere under the desk. 

“I’m going as fast as I can.”

It wasn’t fast enough. Over the radio, Jody screamed, and Sam nearly fell out of his chair. He could clearly hear the groaning of the walking dead through her headset. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” 

“I’m alright.” Jody’s voice was very small, almost as though she were feeling faint. Gods above and below, she belonged in the rec room with knitting needles and a tangle of yarn, not out there with a hundred zoms closing in on her. “Five clobbered it with an iron. Oh.” There was a sudden, pregnant pause. “S-Sam… Sam, Five is bleeding. I think they’ve been bit.” 

Lem, leading the horde away.   
Sarah, saving Five at the last minute.   
Alice, laughing in the face of danger.   
Alice, coughing into her headset.   
Alice, chasing Five with empty eyes and grey skin.

“No. No, Five can’t be bit. That’s… no.” Sam shook his head hard, even as he heard Janine suck in a breath behind him. “You’ve got about a hundred zoms coming in from every direction. You need to get in that shed.” 

“But it can only lock from the outside! If we go in, we can’t lock the door!” 

“And if you stay out, they’ll kill you! Just get in there!” 

**Collected a Runner**

“What?” Just as Sam was trying to figure out what Five was on about (that computerized voice always threw him off a little when he wasn’t expecting it) Jody shrieked. 

“Five, what are you doing?” Something hit the ground. From the sound, it was Jody’s headset. “Five!” 

_Thud_

“FIVE!” 

“Jody! What’s going on?” Sam felt like his heart was about to burst. Jody was sobbing hysterically, he could only barely understand her. 

“Five’s still outside. Sam, they locked me in. They pushed me in and locked the door. They’re still out there!” 

Sam’s blood turned to ice. Janine only barely got out from under the desk in time to catch him as he swayed. 

“What happened? Sam?” 

Jody was still crying. He could hear the thumping of bodies against the shed walls. He imagined he could hear the smack of an iron against soft, undead flesh. “Five saved me. They saved me. I can’t… why did they save me?” 

“Sam?” Janine shook him roughly. “Snap out of it, man. What happened?” 

“It’s… Five.” He pointed at the scanner. His arm felt like lead. Like a full water balloon. Like he was dead, too, and soon he wouldn’t be able to move at all. “I lost another one, Janine. I lost them, and… and it’s all my fault.” 


	2. Abel's Favorite Runner

Concrete floor, concrete walls, tile roof. One tiny window, high up and out of her reach. Nothing could fit through it that was even remotely human-sized, so it didn’t bother her. It looked like this had been set up as an emergency shelter, though who had had the time to make it was beyond her. 

Jody curled in the corner, her headset on the floor, both arms over her head. Her throat was so hot and tight that she could barely breathe. Her chest ached. Her eyes burned. She could hear the bodies of the undead hitting the walls, but it wasn’t anything like being inside the Abel fence, or inside a normal house, where they could groan through the windows at you. Jody could sense the solidness of the walls about her and felt (almost) safe. Nothing could get in. 

She couldn’t get out. 

The control panel for the door (blast door, looked like: a serious fire-stop) had been damaged at some point, and none of the buttons worked. It occurred to her that a zom smashing against the outside of the shelter might randomly hit the right code to open the door from the outside, but she couldn’t summon the energy to worry about it. 

The look on Five’s face as the door closed… that was something she’d never forget. 

Outside, the electronic chirping of Abel’s noisemakers leaked through her single tiny window. It got closer, then faded, then got closer, and faded again. Evan and Simon, luring the zoms away. Someone was chattering through the headset. She should probably listen. She didn’t want to. She was still processing the face that Five was gone. 

Slowly, she reached for the headset and pulled it on. 

“… about another half-kilometer, and that should do it.” That was Janine’s voice. Of course. Losing Five would have wrecked Sam. Everyone knew he was attached to them. They helped him with the nightmares about Alice. 

“No problem,” said Simon breezily. Ah. They’d tied her into a public channel so everyone could hear everyone. “It’s not every day I get to lead on an adoring audience of dozens. I’ll enjoy it while I can!” 

Janine snorted. “Just keep running, you idiot. Runner 7, do you have eyes on that shed?” 

“Not yet. The horde was too thick. But I think after this next pass, I should be able to get a bit closer. Sam said it was a little breakout shelter, right?” 

“Never finished, apparently. They meant to dig a cellar, but they moved to New Canton instead.” Janine sounded as if she didn’t approve. 

“Here we go. Up over the ridge, and…” Evan sucked in a gasp that sounded like someone ripping open a bag of crisps. Jody sat up, her eyes fixed on the dark wall as though she might somehow see him through the concrete. 

“And what? Report, Runner 7.” 

“You’re not going to believe this.” 

“Evan, if you don’t tell me what you’re looking at-” 

“They’re alive. It’s Five. They’re on the roof. Got a… a tire iron, I think. Ooh, they just took the head off another one. The roof isn’t high enough to keep the zoms down, but they’re holding them off. HOLD ON, FIVE! I’M COMING!” 

Jody jerked her headset off, her ears ringing, heart pounding. Five was alive. But… hastily, she put the headset back on. 

“Be careful. I think Five might’ve got bit earlier.”

“Jody! Thank God you’re still alive.” 

“Did you hear me? I think Five was bit.” 

“Better bit and alive than dismembered and dead. Where there’s life there’s hope, as my old man used to say.” 

How could he even say that. The high pitched chirping of a noisemaker pinged through the window like a sonic assault, and the zoms groaned after him as he led them away, thinning the horde to save Abel’s favorite runner. 


	3. The Smell of Fresh Blood

There’s a particularly unique sound to a dead body hitting the ground, and you can tell it’s actually dead because of the quality of the sound. All loose and wet, like punching someone that wasn’t ready. Five let that thought take over as the tire iron swung nearly of its own accord, left, then right, then left again. The slight resistance of rotting flesh, the crunch of bone vibrating through tired arms, muscles on fire. It wasn’t one minute after another anymore. It was one very long, very hard, very smelly minute. A minute that lasted an hour. A day. A year. 

Somewhere below, trampled and broken under zombie feet, the headset that Sam had rigged to take input from the keypad was probably broken. On the off chance it wasn’t, Five slapped some of the buttons on the keypad. Incoherent? Probably. But at least he would know they were still fighting. 

A flash of movement. Runner 7. Evan. He was standing on the ridge. He yelled shouted something that didn’t carry over the groaning of zoms. The undead shambled around to follow him, and in a second he was gone. There were only a dozen left. 

Five wished Runner 10 were still around. He would know how to lure the zoms all into one spot and just kill them all. Or “put them to rest,” as he said that one night when he drank too much. Why didn’t anyone ever let Five have booze? It looked like fun. Didn’t smell good, but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves…

A cold hand, its grip slimy. A hoarse groan and a coughing roar. The zom was coming at her with mouth open wide, missing more teeth than it still had. Five whipped the tire iron around and down into its face. Even as the head came off, hanging on the iron like a grizzly Christmas ornament with the head of the iron through its eye socket, the mouth continued to open ant close sporadically. 

The problem, though was the head was heavy. It must have been 5 kilos, hanging at the end of the weapon. Literal dead weight. It slowed the runner’s swing just enough. Just enough. Another hand. Another clammy grip. Another swing. A lance of pain. A clap like thunder. 

The zom jerked, gurgled, then toppled off the roof. Two shots. Three. Four. The zoms were turning. There was Runner 7 again, pistol in hand. It was like Sarah all over again. As the last of the zoms followed Evan, Five let tired arms relax, let sweaty hands uncurl. It was hard to let go of the tire iron. Dropping it was an all around bad idea, but making sure all fingers were attached and in working order was a good idea. 

Simon showed up first, grinning like a lunatic as always. “Hey, Runner Five! Gorgeous as always. You should have your own spy movie, you know? Get your boyfriend in the comm shack to make one for you. Isn’t that right, Janine?” His headset was obviously still in working order. 

Five slid down off the roof, scanning the ground. There were too many dead zoms for comfort, and not enough headset. No Sam thanking whatever gods came to mind for their survival. 

Ah. Right. Five punched the numbers at the door’s control panel, and there was Jody. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face still wet with tears. Five was starting to feel lightheaded and dizzy. Going home sounded like a good idea. Before that thought got too far, Jody reached out and smacked them soundly, right across the face. Five’s head snapped to the side. 

“How could you do that to me? How could you sacrifice yourself for me? Look at you! How long before you turn?” The questions tumbled over one another. She was hysterical. 

Five massaged the offended cheek and frowned at Jody. 

“You’re bit! How long? Are you coughing yet?” Jody pointed accusingly at a bloody bite on Five’s arm. Simon, for a wonder, looked alarmed. Possibly it was the most serious expression anyone had ever seen on his face. 

“You’re bit? Five?” 

Five twisted their head to the side and fit their teeth over the bite. A perfect fit. 

Jody stared. “You bit _yourself?_ Why?” 

Maybe the signs were sloppy, or maybe the day had just been that long. Jody shook her head, not comprehending her friend’s explanation. Jody was still learning, after all. Sam would understand. Zoms follow the smell of fresh blood. Without a noisemaker, it had been the best way to lead the zoms away from Jody. 

Then Evan was there, breathing deeply and sweating. “We’ve got more zoms moving in from the south. Come on, you lot. Let’s run.” 


	4. At Arm's Length

The light from the monitors bathed his face, bleaching his skin and highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. He looked like a death warmed over, and in the sympathetic way, not the terrifying ‘they’re coming to eat me’ way. Janine let out a quiet sigh, stepping into the comm shack and closing the door behind her with enough noise that she hoped the get his attention without saying anything. 

Sam didn’t move. 

Pursing her lips, she nudged his foot with her toe. “Hey, Sam. It’s lights out.” 

“Someone needs to keep watch.” He didn’t look away from the monitor, and his tone was dull. Maybe it was cruel of her to do this - the man was obviously suffering - but in a world that had effectively ended, there wasn’t a single person left that wasn’t suffering. Everyone had lost someone. Today was proof enough of that. Practically the whole township was holding its breath as they waited to see what would happen to Runner Five. Everyone loved that… child. Idiot child. Lovable idiot child. 

Janine glanced at the screen. 

Five was in the middle of the floor, lying spread-eagled next to the cot that had been provided. “Why not sleep on the cot, since we went to all the trouble to get the stupid thing in there?” 

Sam was quiet for a minute. It had been a rhetorical question - a complaint to get her mind off of things. Not that it worked. But then she saw that Sam’s fingers were busy, signing in his lap. 

_Beds are for being together._

“Sam?” Janine was tempted to worry about him. Like she didn’t have enough to worry about. No. She wasn’t playing this game. Not when there could be lives on the line. She needed Sam whole and focused for tomorrow’s mission. He needed to bring their runners home safe after luring the zoms farther from Abel. “Please go to bed, Sam. Watching isn’t going to help her.” 

“Them,” he corrected, turning this time to glare at her, tears sparkling in his dark eyes. “Five isn’t a she. Five is a them.” 

“Right. Sorry. Watching isn’t going to help them. And you need sleep.” 

“I’m not going to sleep tonight.” 

“Sam, there are others in the township that need you. You can’t go to pieces like this.” 

And suddenly he was on his feet. His nose was inches from hers, tears tracing luminous tracks down his cheeks in the screen’s faint light. “What do you know? Do you ever wake up screaming for them to run? Do you ever freeze up because you can’t forget the one you lost? Do you ever even _think_ about all the dead ones? No - no, you don’t! You’re calm and cool and untouchable there in your nice house and you keep us all at arm’s length like that would make it hurt less!” Sam was yelling now, and Janine actually took a step back. It had been a long time since anyone had screamed at her like this, least of all sweet-tempered Sam. 

Maybe she’d just been pushing him too hard. 

Maybe she had pushed everyone too hard. 

She waited until he’d cursed himself into silence, and then at last the comm shack was quiet again, she sighed. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t like losing friends any more than you do. And maybe I try to protect myself by keeping myself apart. But Sam… Five isn’t the only one that needs you. Our other Runners depend on you, too. And if Five hasn’t gone grey by lunch tomorrow, Doc Myers will run some tests and then they’ll be back. Sleep deprivation won’t make it happen any sooner.” 

There was a long, long silence then. Sam stared down at the chair he’d been sitting in. It was worn out, and some of the foam padding was showing through the torn upholstery in places. 

“I just…” Sam broke off and scrubbed his face in both hands, running his fingers through his hair so it stuck up at crazy angles, thoughts trying to escape his overcrowded brain. “I can’t lose another one, Janine. I can’t.” 

She wanted to argue. To contradict him. They needed him. But… that wasn’t what he needed. Hesitantly, she reached over the chair and put a hand on his shoulder. All at once he had his arms around her, the chair spinning away like discarded rubbish. He held her so tight moving from that spot was a mere daydream. 

“They’ll be fine,” she whispered, feeling suddenly guilty for pushing him so hard. “And… why don’t you take tomorrow off? I’ll cover for you.” In for a penny, in for a pound, as her grandfather used to say. Might as well give in now. 

“Can I go see them? I’ve been watching since they came in, and they haven’t coughed, not even once. And… and Five’s the only one that helps when I have dreams about Alice. I know I’ll dream about her if I go to sleep now.” 

“You know why I can’t let you do that.” 

The hug ended. Not abruptly, but it did end, and Janine could tell it was because she’d not given the desired answer. She put a hand on his shoulder again. “Tomorrow. You can see them tomorrow. Now go on. Get a cocoa or something from the kitchen and try to get some rest. Read a book or talk to someone else that’s supposed to be asleep. Just don’t stay here. I’m locking up for the night.” 

Sam sighed, but obediently left the comm shack. As the door drifted listlessly shut behind him, Janine looked at the monitor one last time. “Just don’t go grey on us, Five. We need you.” Then, as though she’d said all she needed to, she turned the screens off and headed out into the cold, dark night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda struggled to find a decent end to this story... I suppose I could be persuaded to write another chapter where Five is let out of quarantine. Not sure how to handle that scene, though. I'd need to think about it. 
> 
> All the same, poor Sam.


End file.
